


Frosting on the Cake

by Sparcina



Series: How Frostiron Could Have Started [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs in a Car, Fascination, Fast Cars, Funny and light, High Heels Kink, Human Loki, M/M, No Angst, Possessive Loki, Secret kink, Smut, Somebody needs a driver license, Someone who should not be in a kitchen decides to cook, Top Loki, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:03:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8136533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparcina/pseuds/Sparcina
Summary: Loki’s knuckles turned white on the wheel. The night air freed his face of black hair, highlighting high cheekbones and thin, sensual lips. Tony awaited the derisive snort of mockery, but what he got instead heated his blood to the boiling point.“Isn’t that considered dangerous by human standards?” Loki managed to ask between gasps.Tony had always been told to be quiet with his mouth full, but he tried nonetheless to form words around the cock stretching his throat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I did have to write another 2k of my book today, but this idea had been diverting my attention all afternoon. A third Frostiron fic, because I can't seem to get over them.

Life in the Tower had gone through quite a few changes since its latest addition. Sure enough, Bruce still destroyed whole floors on a weekly basis when he got angry (it was mostly Clint's fault), Natasha still liked to throw threats around breakfast, and Steve still enjoyed making his lust life a mess by scaring away potential one-night stands, but all the Avengers did was nothing, _nothing at all,_ compared to somebody's little schemes.

Tony didn’t quite understand how it'd happened, honestly. One day, the Avengers were fighting the Jotuns, with Loki at their head shouting curses and bascially trying to turn the city into a pile of ashes, and the next day, Thor was dragging his very unwilling, and very mortal, half-brother in the Tower by the scruff of his neck.

“Brother…”

“I am not your brother!” 

Thor had ignored everybody's shock, including the wrath of a downgraded God, and gone on with his little official speech. “Loki is no longer with godly powers,” he announced with a pat on a very angry Loki's shoulder. “The Allfather has declared he is to live amongst you, my dear friends, and fight alongside the best. If he learns from his past mistakes, he might be allowed back to Asgard.”

Loki had snapped something back at him before Tony could ask how Loki’s ‘mistakes’ could ever be a thing of the past. Mischief and vengeance were written in bold letters in those green eyes, etched on the savage features that were fixed, somehow, on his forgettable person. Or maybe he wasn’t that forgettable.

*

Loki turned out to be bad at keeping promises. A few weeks into his ‘imprisonment’, as they all had decided to call it, the former god was effectively kicking enemies' asses in their company, answering SHIELD’s calls even faster than Steve. Albeit still cautious (the guy _had_ thrown him out of a window, after all) Tony couldn’t help but admire the show of strength and energy. Stripped of all divine powers, reduced to using human weapons which could 'in no way compete with my version of technology’, Loki took down enemy after enemy without pausing to catch his breath.

Tony came to realize that if Loki hadn’t exactly accepted his fate, he would make the best of it. In his case, it included fighting as much as possible with his new enemies and stealing Tony’s place on the couch on Movies’ Night. After a few fruitless attempts to reclaim his usual seat, Tony had taken on claiming a spot on the carpet. Every week found him closer and closer to Loki, right until the point where everybody noticed the change.

“Is there something you wish of me, Stark?”

“You bet I will,” Tony had replied, nonplussed. Luckily for him, his wits were doped with enough caffeine to wake a dead man. “Have you ever played Truth or Dare?”

And just like that, the whole group ended up on the floor, everybody sitting in a circle, Steve his usual and cautious self, Natasha flashing a lethal smile, Bruce looking for an out and Clinton shooting invisible arrows at Loki. The former god eyed the bottle sitting in the center of their circle with obvious contempt.

“What is this contraption?”

“It’s a _beer bottle_ , you idiot," Clint snarled. 

Bruce and Natsha separated the two of them before they could try and kill one another. Loki shot a hateful glance at Tony, as if everything wrong in his life was his fault.

“It’s a very simple game. If the bottle points at you, you can either answer a question, truthfully, or do whatever the bottle's last ‘victim’ asks of you.”

Loki snorted. Tony tried very hard not to find the noise cute.

“And why would I play this... game?"

Natasha shook her head. “And you were doing so well, Loki…”

In a gesture of good faith, Tony went first. Dare it was.

“I dare you to spend one day in my shoes.”

The voice came from the hallway; everybody turned to stare at Pepper, who entered the room with a smile. Tony held up his hands in a pacifying gesture.

“I signed the last two requests you sent me on time,” he said, going for frantic honesty. “Please have mercy on me.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “I meant it literally, Tony. But I know your endurance for discomfort and will be happy with five minutes of you walking around in _these_.”

Pepper kicked off her shoes. Tony’s eyes zeroed on the absolutely stunning (and painful-looking) high heels his assistant had been wearing. They had to be at least six inches tall. Tony gulped. Surely he could design something to keep him upright in those tortuous beauties, but even he couldn’t create lifesaving equipment out of thin air.

“Do I really…”

“YES!” It was a unanimous answer.

Tony sighed. He’d better get on with it, yes? He grabbed the delicate shoes and made a show of wiggling his feet in them. He was sorely disappointed to find they fit perfectly. Who could have guessed Pepper and he wore the same size? Unless...

He didn't have time to pursue that suspicious line of thought. In a silence only an expected failure could produce, Tony rose to his feet. He tried to convince himself it was the same thing as walking in the Suit, but it wasn’t, not by a long stretch, and snickers followed his careful steps around the group.

He couldn’t explain why he turned to Loki. Did he really expect support from him? And yet he found wonder in those green eyes, of a kind he wanted to savour a while longer. He had to look preposterously unappealing in men’ clothes and women’ shoes, and yet Loki didn’t make fun of him. Actually, he was the only one to gaze at him with any sort of seriousness, and a... burning intent that sent Tony’s heart bumping against his ribcage.

He fell to his knees amongst cackles and laughts.  Pepper's lips curled in an indulgent smile. Tony tried to shrug dismissively, but he was still unnerved by the intensity of Loki’s gaze. A gaze that still followed him with the same intensity.

“My turn,” he said as the bottle stopped spinning at Loki. “Truth or Dare?”

Tony was still on his knees, the high heels forgotten. The air sizzled with electricity as everyone waited for Loki’s answered.

“Truth.”

Tony didn’t even have to think. He had wanted to ask Loki about his true designs for a long time. But what came out of his mouth was nothing to that effect.

“You might want to change your answer.”

*

Tony should have known that Loki couldn’t resist speed. Speed was power, and power was Loki's personal obsession. At first, the former god had laughed at the notion of speed-racing, unable to classify the notion in the new paradigm that was his life without magic. Tony being Tony, he had insisted until Loki reluctantly followed him to the garage. Loki's surprised gasp had warranted all kinds of self-high-five. 

“They are beautiful,” Loki had said once he had recovered. “Sleek and dangerous.”

"I know, right?"

Loki didn’t know how to drive. Why would he? But Loki was nothing if not proud, and he would follow through the frivolous Dare that Tony had set for him. For half an hour, he let himself be taught the basics of driving, and if Tony could still hear the voices of his fellow Avengers telling him how crazy that plan was, he quickly sent them to a dark and dusty corner of his mind, with his sense of responsability and self-preservation.

The drive started haphazardly. Tony cringed at the telltale sound of a bumper being hit, calculated the price of the reparation, and decided it was worth the actual experience of seeing Loki with his gorgeous hands on the wheel. He looked like a child enthralled with his newest toy… except that there was nothing childish about his lithe body, or the harsh, predatory lines of his face, seemingly sculpted by one wondering at the looks of seduction itself.

Tony found himself dismissing the speed of the car (220 km/h) way above the speed limit on the highway and sent to Hel every nasty consequence bound to arise from his stupid curiosity, and desire. He was known for impulsivity. He assumed it, and now he apparently assumed fellatio suicidal tendencies as well.

“Stark, what are you-”

The car suddenly changed lines. The next amateur of Fast and Furious honked behind them. Tony gazed at his hands unlacing Loki’s pants and couldn’t get them to act fast enough. Loki was surprised; Tony would have asked JARVIS for a picture, hadn’t he been so busy meaning business. 

Loki’s knuckles turned white on the wheel. The night air freed his face of black hair, highlighting high cheekbones, and thin, sensual lips. Tony awaited the derisive snort of indifference, but what he got instead heated his blood to the boiling point.

“Isn’t that considered dangerous by human standards?” Loki managed to ask between gasps.

Tony had always been told to be quiet with his mouth full, but he tried nonetheless to form words around the cock stretching his throat. The result was a hand pulling at his hair, and a hoarse shout. 

“Stark!”

His name was an order, and Tony obeyed, impaling his mouth further on the hard line. The sweet-and-sour taste of precum tingled his taste buds as he licked the slit, right before the full meal of an orgasm filled up his throat from end to end, denying him everything else except Loki, Loki, Loki... He swallowed like a drowning man.

He rutted against emptiness and came in his pants like a teenager. When he straightened up, he discovered that Loki had stopped on the side of the road. The dots connected fairly quickly, and soon enough, he was on his back in a position he hadn’t tried for years. He wasn't unconfortable per say, of course. It was just that his back would hurt tomorrow, and possibly some other interested parts of his body, too. He had a picosecond to wonder why he had never begged during his imprisonment by the Ten Rings, but felt like doing just so right now.

“You were so fuckable in those heels,” Loki growled as he pounded into him. (Didn’t gods have refractory periods when they turned humans... But oh, look, they had kinks, how amazing...) “I would have taken you then, Tony Stark. _That_ ,” he added, breathless, pupils blown dark, “is why I threw you out your window.”

“You... almost killed me be...cause you knew I wished to blow... you?”

Tony didn’t know how he could still talk. Loki was fucking him deep and hard in the seat of his Tesla, delicate fingers bruising his sides, bruising him into possession. He wasn’t hard yet for a second row, but he was aching, both from the pain in his arse and the acute pleasure of his surrender. He hadn't bottomed in years. Why hadn't he?

Loki laid a thumb on Tony’s lower lip, forcing the mouth open, and Tony sucked in earnest. His jaw could relax another day. “You don’t believe I am without power even now, do you?”

“Certainly not,” Tony managed to retort.

It was the last intelligible thing he said in a long, long time.

*

The next day, Steve found Tony in the kitchen baking what looked like a cake. JARVIS was acting like a recipe book, repeating instructions with what could only be described as an amused tone. Natasha followed, Barton at her shoulder.

“That smells wonderful,” Bruce announced from the corridor. “Did you bake a chocolate cake, Ste…”

Notwithstanding the terrible shape of the actual cake, it smelled divine. Tony brushed away the first hand entering his field of vision. He deterred the next one with his buttering knife. He was one against many, however, and he could only look in horror (and a good dose of disbelief) as Clint and Natsaha each dipped a finger in the still-hardening frosting of his first cake ever.

“Mhh,” Clint moaned, licking his finger for every bit of forgotten icing. “You should cook more often, Stark.”

When everyone had left, Tony contemplated the failure that was his cake: a morsel the size of his hand, the last piece of what would have been his first _chef d’oeuvre_. Then he burst into laughter.

Loki found him in this disarray state. “Does what I think happened really came to pass?”

Tony calmed down long enough to raise a suggestive eyebrow. Loki, to his great shock and even greater pleasure, blushed slightly.

“I could eat you whole,” Tony crooned, stalking towards him.

Loki seized him by the collar and bit down on his neck. Tony felt his smile.

“You thought you had a head start, didn’t you? It would seem I am a taste to be acquired by everyone.”

Tony’s eyes shut close. When he could see again, sometime after his world had dissolved into a cluster of stars, he asked JARVIS to have Dum-E come and clean the mess.

He would have other occasions to bake something out of Loki’s body fluids.


End file.
